


Body Shots

by Trash



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-22
Updated: 2007-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Chester's birthday. Of course, the party is at Club Tattoo. And, of course, Chester gets drunk. Very, very drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body Shots

Of course, the party is at Club Tattoo. And, of course, Chester and Brad show up fashionably late. Well, not on purpose. Chester was positive his ass looked terrible in every pair of pants he put on until he settled with a black pair that made Brad whimper in desire as he watched him roll his hips in front of the mirror going “How do I look?”

When they arrive the party is everywhere, and Brad has to wonder how many of these people were actually invited. A girl in hotpants that have disappeared up her ass, a tiny bikini and knee high boots saunters over to them and holds out a tray of jello-shots.

Chester flashes her a dirty smile and takes one, knocking it back. He takes another and holds it out for Brad who looks at it for a moment before necking it. Chester takes another and disappears into the crowd, hips swaying.

Brad hurries to keep up with him, but has a feeling he won’t be seeing much of the birthday boy this evening.

***

He’s starting to think he was right. He stands at the bar next to Mike who is watching Rob dance. Brad follows his sight line and smiles. It’s a nice view. The drummer is dancing next to Chester, his long hair swaying in time with his body.

Turns out there was brownies. And both Chester and Rob had indulged heavily in the chocolate-and-dope treats.

Mike bobs his head to the music absently, still watching Rob over Brad’s shoulder. “Oh man,” he murmurs and Brad turns just in time to see Chester climb drunkenly on top of a table, kicking away empty cups and glasses and pulling off his shirt. He sits, then lies down, and two of the Club Tattoo girls appear and pour a little salt onto his chest.

They then pour the shot and it runs down his chest and toward his stomach, pooling in his belly button. He giggles when they jam a lemon wedge between his teeth and call out “Who wants a free shot?”

Turns out – that person was Rob.

The drummer pushes his way forward and Chester meets his eyes. Rob smiles broadly and climbs atop the table. He straddles the singer’s hips and flashes him another smile before dipping his head.

He licks the salt from Chester’s nipples and then licks a path down his torso, tracing the path of the tequila. The singer shivers and closes his eyes at the combined sensation of Rob’s tongue on his body and his long hair tickling his skin as his head moves down.

The drummer looks up and giggles as he sticks his tongue into Chester’s belly button, then laps up the rest of the shot which has reached his treasure trail.

He crawls back up the older man’s body and smirks down at him. Chester meets his eyes and murmurs something around the lemon, then lowers his eyes as Rob leans in to take the wedge from between his teeth with his. He sits up triumphantly, straddling Chester’s chest and sucking on the lemon. He spits it to one side then plants his hands either side of the man below him’s head.

On all fours, he leans in and kisses Chester slowly. The crowd around them cheers loudly and, in the background, both Mike and Brad whimper and cast a longing glance at each other.

***

Chester appears later, smelling of Tequila and stumbling slightly. His makeup is smudged but his smile is playful. He dances in front of Brad, hands on his hips and pulling him close. “Oh wow Brad,” he leans in and murmurs, “Were you watching mine and Robbie’s little show?”

Brad nods dumbly and pushes his hips forward. Chester guides him to a bar stool and pushes him onto it. He hops up, straddling his waist and rolls his hips downward. Brad moans quietly, but then gasps loudly when Chester leans in and dips his tongue into his ear.

He whispers “I think you should make out with Mike.”

“W-what? Why?”

“Because I know you want to.”

It’s true. He does. So when Chester climbs off him and grabs Mike’s wrist, Mike who had been trying not to watch but wasn’t sure where he should be looking, and pulls him over to them.

“He wants us to make out,” Brad shouts.

Mike shrugs, “Okay!”

Rob bounces over, giggling and half dancing as the pair start to kiss. Mike’s hands find their way to Brad’s ass and Brad’s drape over Mike’s shoulders. Their lips part almost immediately and Chester grins in delight as their tongues touch.

As they watch the heated kiss Rob wraps his arms around Chester from behind and dances stupidly with him, the pair giggling and humming completely different songs along to the music.

The minute Mike and Brad break apart Rob is there, cupping the emcee’s chin and pressing their lips together. As the kiss deepens Brad glances at Chester desperately who grins, grabbing a coloured shot from a scantly clad girl as she wanders past. He raises it to Brad’s lips and watches carefully as the guitarist tips back is head, swallowing hard.

He leans in, discarding the shot glass on the bar, and kisses him deeply. He tastes of aniseed and beer and the joint he smoked before they left. Chester slides a hand down to the front of his pants and cups him. Brad moans into the kiss and pulls away murmuring, “Don’t start what you ain’t going to finish.”

Chester just smiles mysteriously, grabs two more shots and saunters away. He glances over his shoulder to look at Brad as he pushes his way through the crowd, shot glasses held high. Brad turns to Mike and Rob, sniggering at the site of Mike pushed up onto a bar stool with Rob between his legs.

He races after Chester, following his path to the bathrooms.

***

Chester grabs him and pulls him into a stall where the shot glasses are on the top of the toilet which has its lid down. The singer fumbles to lock the door for a long moment before Brad bats away his hands and does it for him.

“How much have you drank?”

Chester blinks with half lidded eyes and smiles, “I sat in a chair. And the hotties poured shots down my throat. They’re hot.”

“Yeah,” Brad says, shifting his weight and nods. Chester holds out an orange shot for him and he takes it, knocking it back.

They kiss then, messily and rough but it’s hot. Chester slides his hands down Brad’s chest to his pants which he starts to unbutton, sliding a hand inside to wrap around his dick.

Brad moans and leans against the door heavily, his breathing quickening as Chester drops to his knees and pulls Brad’s pants down far enough for him to release his dick. He immediately takes the head in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip.

He strokes the length slowly and presses a lingering kiss to the head, murmuring “I love this song.”

Brad just nods and tries not to come from just looking down at Chester as he jerks him off and licks the head of his erection. The singer takes as much into his mouth as he can and begins to hum along to the song that is playing a thousand miles away. Not really, but Brad feels like he’s underwater.

It feels amazing. And all it takes is for Chester to keep humming around him and deep throating him and, then, cupping his balls and stroking the skin behind them with one finger. And then he bucks his hips and can’t hold on anymore. He grips Chester’s hair with both hands and comes hard into his mouth.

Chester swallows around him obediently, letting Brad thrust into his mouth as he orgasm washes over him. He gets to his feet and kisses the guitarist deeply so he can taste himself on his tongue. His hands clumsily tuck Brad back into his pants and fasten them back up again.

He breaks the kiss to reach behind him and drink the strawberry shot. They kiss one last time before Chester skips out of the cubicle and out of the bathroom, leaving Brad slumped against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

***

When Chester isn’t bumping and grinding with Brad he’s following Scott Weiland around like a lost puppy. Usually that’d piss Brad off, but he’s had one of the dope brownies, a killer blow job and he’s…really happy. So he doesn’t mind. Besides – Scott only seems interesting in one Gerard Way.

Brad curls his nose up when he thinks of the age difference. But he guesses, since Scott is technically crazy, it probably doesn’t seem like a big deal to them.

***

The night is coming to a close when Brad finally finds Chester slumped in Joe’s arms and talking to Dave about something that doesn’t seem to make any sense. He’s singing one of their songs. Leave Out All The Rest, if Brad is correct. He’s so sick of hearing his own album already that he’s more than tempted to gag Chester.

“We going?”

“Yeah,” Joe says, “If you can carry him.”

The pair of them help drag Chester outside with Dave keeping him busy and distracted from puking, which he keeps saying he wants to do before giggling insanely. They hail a cab and all climb in. Chester spends the entire time trying to feel up Dave who laughs and bats his hands away, guiding him to Brad.

“Oh!” He declares and rests his head on Brad’s shoulder, sliding a hand up his shirt from behind.

“Do you mind?”

“No. Brad. You’re hot.” Chester states, “Did you know you’re hot?” he turns to Joe and Dave who raise their eyebrows. “Isn’t he hot?”

“He’s a keeper,” laughs Joe as the cab rolls to a halt outside of Chester’s house.

“Home!” The singer squeals. “Ima go watch…gay porn!” He scrambles over Brad’s lap and opens the door, falling onto the sidewalk. “Ow.”

Brad rolls his eyes and hand ten bucks to Joe. “You deserve it for looking after him.”

The DJ grins and nods, “You’re right. I do.”

Brad climbs out and helps Chester to his feet, hissing through his teeth at the grazes on the singer’s hands, elbow and chin. “You’re a mess baby.”

“Brad?”

“Yeah?”

Chester goes to say something but instead he plants his hands on his elbows and throws up into the gutter.

***

He wakes up the next morning with the sun making his head pound. He wonders what time it is. He wonders where he is. He wonders who is beside him. He sits up timidly and peers at the alarm clock. Eleven am.

He’s safe in his room, Brad fast asleep beside him. His hands sting and he looks down, noticing deep grazes that still have bits of dirt in them. His stomach turns and he scrambles out of bed, racing into the bathroom to throw up.

As he sits on his knees on the bathroom floor, groaning in discomfort, he hears Brad laugh from the bedroom and call out “Hope you had a good party, Ches’.”

He did. And he’d love to do it all again.

But if anybody felt like killing him, that’d be fine, too.


End file.
